


Paper Trails

by Cassiopeia12727



Category: The Office (US), The X-Files
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22783054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiopeia12727/pseuds/Cassiopeia12727
Summary: If you think you've read it all when it comes to crazy mashups, hold my lightSabre because this one is pretty "out there".
Kudos: 3





	Paper Trails

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a dream that I had about David Duchovny working as a salesman pitching me different printer models. I was "sold" on the idea of an X-Files/The Office mashup, after my significant other responded to the dream with "He must have been working for Sabre." This story takes place sometime during the first few seasons, when Pam was still the receptionist and Michael still the Regional Manager. The X-Files didn't "take place"/air during that time, but let's just say that this could be anywhere in season 5 or 6 of The X-Files. [ AthenaScarlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaScarlet) beat me to writing the first crossover of this kind on here, but I hope you still enjoy my take on it. This is not sponsored by the Scranton Psychic Theater, by the way. I just found the place when researching locations in Scranton that Mulder might be interested in.

"Mulder, was this detour to Scranton, just to see the Psychic Theater, really worth it?" Scully sighed, pacing back and forth in the parking lot, while Mulder was looking at the map stretched out on the hood of their rental car.   
"Come on, Scully. It'll be fun." Mulder tried to cheer her up.   
"Yeah, if we ever find it." Scully rolled her eyes and stretched her back. She was still sore from the car ride from Philadelphia, which is where they had just finished up their case.   
Mulder half-bunched, half-folded the map together carelessly and turned towards his partner, saying, "Let's go ask someone inside."   
Scully was incredulous. "You want to ask someone inside that office building for the way to the Psychic Theater?"   
"Sure, why not?" Mulder was already halfway at the glass doors that led inside, leaving Scully running in order to catch up.

One of the first things that Mulder noticed when opening the door to the second-floor office was the camera team hovering around one of the desks. It seemed like they were filming some sort of documentary.   
The receptionist, a friendly-looking blonde with curly hair greeted him with a big smile, saying, "Welcome to Dunder Mifflin. How may I help you today?"   
Mulder, nodding over to the camera team whispered, "Hi. My partner and I have a question. Is now a bad time?"   
The receptionist shook her head, still beaming. Mulder briefly glanced around but failed to find a name plate or a name tag for the receptionist.   
"Excuse me, what's your name again?" he asked.   
"Pam Beesly, but you can call me Pam. What's your name?"   
"I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder and this," he pointed behind him, as Scully was only now catching up, "is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully. We're with the FBI, and we were wondering..." "The FBI?" Pam's eyes grew large with excitement. "What brings you here?"   
Before Mulder was able to reply, a man with glasses dressed in earthy tones marched over to the reception area with his hand extended in greeting.   
"Dwight Schrute. I heard that you are with the FBI. How can I be of service?"   
Mulder tried to maintain a polite smile, but the excessive force of Mr. Schrute's handshake and dead-on stare were more than just a little bit disconcerting.   
Half to Mr. Schrute and half to Pam, Mulder replied, "We are looking for the Psychic Theater. Would you be able to give us directions?"   
Dwight Schrute narrowed his eyes. "What's so special about the Psychic Theater?"   
In the background, Scully murmured to herself, "That's a good question."

A tall young man with tousled brown hair and blue eyes leisurely approached the reception desk, apparently attracted by the commotion.   
"It's a party," Scully now mumbled under her breath, becoming increasingly annoyed by the delay.   
"Hey," the young man greeted them enthusiastically, "Jim Halpert. How can I help?"   
Mulder opened his mouth to respond, but Mr. Schrute interrupted him. "They are looking for the Psychic Theater," he said, his tone heavy with mistrust.   
Mulder was perplexed by Schrute's reaction and asked, "I'm sorry, Mr. Schrute, but it seems like you don't seem to believe us."   
"Well, Agent Mulder, I just find it very unusual that you would be going to the Psychic Theater, when Schrute Farms is clearly the main tourist attraction in Scranton," Dwight Schrute answered, his whole demeanor now downright hostile.   
Mulder cleared his throat before stating, "To be honest, I... we have never heard of Schrute Farms. The fact of the matter is that the Psychic Theater was recommended to me for its as one of the most haunted places in Pennsylvania."   
Scully looked like she was about to sink through the floor.   
"Is that so?" Dwight Schrute's eyes were now boring holes through Mulder's eyes. "What is the FBI doing at one of the most haunted places in Pennsylvania?"   
"We're not actually here on business," Mulder retorted. "Of course you're not," Mr. Schrute scoffed. "That must be why you DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER SHOWING US YOUR BADGES. Do you even have a badge, 'Agent' Mulder?"   
  


"Badge smadge," came a comical voice from the background. When Mulder turned around, he saw a 40-something year old man in a suit with a big grin on his face, who introduced himself as, "Michael Scott, Regional Manager. What seems to be the matter here?"   
Again, Mulder was unable to respond because Jim already did so for him. "These two are with the FBI, and they are looking for the Psychic Theater."   
"Or so they say," Dwight Schrute proclaimed, his eyes circling his co-workers in a conspirative manner.   
Mulder reluctantly pulled out his badge, "We are with the FBI, but this is a personal matter. The fact of the matter is that we do not want to take up any more of your valuable time. Please, just tell us where we can find the haunted theater."   
Dwight Schrute barely glanced at the badge. "Oh, yeah? Here's a fact for you, Agent Mulder, did you know that the giraffe can lick itself in its own ear?" he stated, maintaining his intense stare. "No, I did not know that." Mulder mumbled, utterly confused, not keeping his eyes off this unusual human specimen, while absentmindedly chewing sunflower seeds.   
  
He felt more and more as if he had stepped into a parallel universe very different from his own. This office visit was turning downright Kafkaesque. He wondered if they would ever be able to continue their journey or be stuck here forever, being interrogated by these "office workers", some of which seemed almost humanoid in their absurdity, like someone had created living breathing caricatures of what office employees were supposed to be like.   
Just as he was about to ask Mr. Schrute some investigative questions that might allow him to open an X-File about Dunder Mifflin, a petite blonde in a cat sweater walked by and, pointing at the sunflower seed shells that he had absentmindedly left on the reception counter, hissed, "Are you gonna clean that up?"   
Mulder, taken aback, stammered, "I... Well,..."   
Thankfully, as usual, his level-headed partner came to the rescue. "I think we're done here. Thanks for your time," Scully said, pulling her partner by the arm and guiding him towards the door. Mulder followed her, uttering apologies for the sudden departure, but didn't turn to look at Scully, until he realized that something was off. He could feel that he was being pulled, but he didn't feel Scully's unmistakable presence anymore. Puzzled, he turned, for the first time, in the direction that he was being pulled in and saw a gaping black void where the entrance and staircase should have been. Something was dragging him, but it wasn't Scully. Panicked, Mulder opened his mouth to scream…   
He jerked awake with a gasp. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was not in Scranton but lying on the couch in his DC apartment. What a dream! Instinctually, with no regard for the time, Mulder reached for his phone and dialed the number.   
"Scully, you won't believe this..."


End file.
